Grenouille # 24 - Crayfish (from Way Back)

 

Like you gentle-readers, the family Grenouille has brutal origins. My distant ancestral cousin, eryops, was sixty centimetres long (if your "feet" are grands, perhaps two of them - if petits, then three or four). He dreamed beneath the swamp water and waited for breakfast to swim by, like a floating buffet.

This looks perhaps une rendezvous dangereuse? My cousin's response to this creature would have reminded Steve of Aristotle's practical syllogism. Crunchy food is good. Here is crunchy food. Crunch, crunch. The spirit of my cousin lives today in Louisiana. There the logique has been updated with cauldrons at a rolling boil, fiddle music, and something stronger to drink than swamp water, but the response to this armor plated warrior remains crunchy, with or without a good sauce. I am non plussed. Let him return to the stream from which he came. I have more civil things to eat, and I am proud to wear my flesh, without fear, on the outside of my bones. Et vous?